BlueJay
by thephantom'sdancer
Summary: I tried so hard not to fall for him, the boy with the stormy eyes and the troubled past.
1. Chapter 1

**Wow. It's been ages since I uploaded anything to FF. Long story, involving lost passwords and broken laptops etc. Anyway, I have stories that I desperately need to finish, but Jay's character popped into my head one day and she wouldn't go away. This is the result. I'm going to aim for 2 chapters a week, but bear with me. A Levels are killing me right now.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Sirius would have had a far happier life.**

_A tumble of brown hair framed a face that was all sunlight and cheekbones. The girl's limbs were slim with a bronzy polish, in spite of the dismal, misty weather. She didn't belong there, that was for sure, in the gloomy station waiting room that smelled like damp. Her brown legs were folded up underneath her as she flicked listlessly through a copy of Cosmopolitan, absently chewing on the ends of her hair. _

That girl is me, Jay Rivers. I'm seventeen years old and bored as hell. I'm here in the middle of East Yorkshire because my parents, being the control freaks that they are, figured that since I'm starting my NEWT year, I'd be better off at the best wizarding school in the world. Never mind if that means shipping me halfway across the world to live in England with distant relatives that I've never met. Apparently they have a son my age, which could be interesting. I'm still contemplating whether it will be worth befriending him on the off-chance that he has a super hot friend when a flustered looking woman appears in the doorway. Before I've had a chance to open my mouth, she's apologized a thousand times for being late, grabbed my bags and introduced herself as Amber Potter. She's keen to stress that I should feel right at home, and I'm free to call her Auntie. Right. Still, I can't help liking her; she's so warm and cozy. She's older than my parents, but her eyes crinkle up in a pretty way when she smiles and her hair is dark and glossy.

"Listen to me, chattering away like this," She shakes her head and gestures for me to follow her. "How are you finding England?" I hate it, but I can't bring myself to tell her that.

"It's okay, I guess," I shrug and grab my leather tote. She laughs at that, a soft chuckle like she knows I'm lying. I fidget uncomfortably. I don't want to offend her or anything, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"It must be very different for you, coming all the way from California. How are your parents?" I can tell she's being polite, it's not like she wants a proper answer, so I just plaster a fake smile on my face and shrug again. I'm not the chattiest companion but hey, I've flown in all the way from America and been jolted through the English countryside for the past three hours. I think I deserve to be cut a little slack here. Anyway, my Aunt Amber talks enough for two, and by the time we reach the car, I know she met her husband when she was still at school and she has only one son, James, whom she dotes on.

"Sirius lives with us too though, James' friend," she continues, lifting my bags into the trunk of the car and sliding into the front seat. It's fairly ordinary, a blue sedan, but the seats inside are soft cream leather. I sink back, suddenly exhausted. "He's had a difficult time at home, poor dear. You'd understand if you met the family…" she trails off and starts the engine, pulling out of the tiny station's parking lot. She drives fast, my Aunt.

"Is it far?" I ask, pulling my knees to my chest. I'm willing her to say yes. There's nothing I want more than to close my eyes and sink into a deep sleep in these gorgeously soft seats, but she shakes her head.

"No, we'll be there in a few minutes," Amber smiles, turning sharply down another small lane. She drives like a maniac. I feel ill, and breathe shallowly, willing myself not to get sick all over her nice upholstery. I'm still eager to please her though, so I try for a smile. I can't have been very convincing, because she looks anxiously over at me and pats my hand in a motherly way. I find myself, strangely, missing my own mother, even if she's shown me less maternal affection in my entire life than my aunt has in the past few minutes. I swallow hard, and push those thoughts away. No use getting homesick now, when I'm thousands of miles away from LA. I'll just have to grin and bear it. My aunt takes a sudden left hand turn, and suddenly, we're pulling up to a pretty brick house, washed in white paint. The front yard is damp and green and earthy, and everything's flowering. There's even a break in the overcast sky, and a little sunlight filters through onto the house's mullioned windows.

My aunt apologizes for my cousin's absence. He's playing Quidditch apparently, and she couldn't tear him away. She reassures me that I'll meet him in a minute, but is quick to point out that I probably won't see my uncle until tonight, since he's working overtime at the moment. Aunt Amber says all this whilst unloading my bags from the trunk of the car and levitating them through the open front door. I'm left feeling pretty useless, and I slide out of the passenger seat. Gravel crunches under my scuffed up sneakers. My aunt smiles reassuringly at me, but I feel like there's a lead weight in my stomach. Everything is suddenly too much, the air too damp, the crunch of my footsteps too loud, the wet, earthy freshness of the yard overpowering. I swallow hard, and put my hands into my pockets for something to do. I don't want to be here. I long for the heat of California, the sunscreen and sand smell of the beaches. England's too wet, too green. I want to go home.

We walk up to the house in procession, my Aunt Amber following after my floating bags, with me trailing behind. The interior of the house is warm and smells faintly of polish. There's a broom sweeping all on its own in one corner, and the candlesticks along the side table are being waxed by an invisible hand. The walls are covered in pictures, some rural muggle paintings of landscapes, some photographs of relatives. A thousand witches and wizards wave and smile from their frames. Amber seems to sense that I'm not feeling particularly talkative, and doesn't try to make conversation. She smiles her sympathetic smile and lets my cases drop neatly into a corner.

"I'll get the boys to bring your bags up later, but I'll show you to your room if you'd like?" I nod dully, and follow her blindly up the stairs. I know she's just trying to be nice, but she's a stranger. I'm out of my depth here. My house back home is large and open plan, with just two floors. I'm being led up a second staircase, into a narrow corridor with whitewashed walls and bare, polished floorboards. An attic room. Like something out of a fairytale, or those sad Victorian novellas where the children are whipped and sent to bed without supper. I'm expecting an iron bedstead and a leaky roof, but the room I'm shown into is refreshingly ordinary.

"Thank you." I say, plastering a smile on my face. I turn to my Aunt. "If you don't mind, I'm very tired." I sound rude, even to my own ears, but she just smiles.

"I'll call you for dinner in about an hour, OK? The Bathroom's at the end of the hall, you'll be sharing it with Sirius if that's OK." She squeezes my hand comfortingly, and leaves the room. I don't particularly mind sharing a bathroom, but I know teenaged boys. They don't seem to make any effort to aim when they pee, so I'm not exactly thrilled at having to share with a complete stranger. There's not a lot I can do though, so I decide to poke around the room a little. I'll do my best to describe the room exactly. There's a large four poster bed again one wall, although there's no canopy. The bed has been made up pristinely, with white cotton sheets. It reminds me a little of a hospital. Opposite the bed is a small fireplace, but it's been made into a kind of centerpiece, surrounded by vases of flowers. A large portrait of a girl in a white dress hangs above it, but it's completely stationary. Another muggle painting I suppose. The ceiling of the room slopes down a little, and there are padded seats under the small gabled windows that look out onto a vast lawn. On the right hand side of the bed, there's a little door, which opens to reveal a closet. I've never had a walk in closet before, and I grin to see it. Other than that though, the room's pretty empty.

I'm contemplating interior design ideas when there's a knock at the door. I make some kind of noise, and it swings open to reveal a boy whom I figure is my cousin. He has deliberately messy hair and large hazel eyes behind black framed glasses. I suppose he's good looking in a dorky way.

"Hi, Cousin Jay, I'm James," he grins, stepping into the room and appraising my appearance. I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "You look American." I raise an eyebrow at that. I wonder what he was expecting me to look like. Before I can reply, he's joined by another boy with the same dark hair, but he's' more tan. Where James' hair is messy and sticks straight up, this boy - Sirius? - has long thick hair that seems to have been styled to look exactly the right kind of mussed. There's a shadow of stubble across his jaw, and his eyes are grey as storm clouds. There's no denying this boy is beautiful. His eyes rake over me, just once, but it's like he's looking all the way into my soul. I shiver. I'm suddenly conscious of how much of my legs are on show, how my jumper has slipped off my shoulder to reveal the strap of my bra. I straighten my clothes and muster up the will to scowl.

"Where I come from, it's polite to knock." I cringe. I sound like my mother. I'm expecting at least a half-hearted apology, but all he does is shrug.

"Door was open." He cocks his head at me. "I'm Sirius by the way." It takes me a moment to figure out that Sirius is his name. I stick out my hand.

"Jay." It's not the warmest greeting, but it's about all I can manage. I feel way out of depth in this strange house, miles from home. "Did you guys bring my stuff up?" James nods.

"Yeah, hang on. Accio." My cases fly in from the hall, and I have to jump to one side to keep from getting squashed. They land with a dull thump at the foot of the bed, far less neatly than when my Aunt set them down downstairs. "Sorry," my cousin shrugs. "Can't be perfect every time." I roll my eyes but I'm not too bothered. I don't have anything breakable anyway.

"So," Sirius smirks, crossing the room to lean against the bedpost. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" I snort at the corny line, and fold my arms across my chest. He might be hot but if he thinks that's gonna get him laid…

"Hitting on my fair cousin already Sirius?" James grins, throwing a mock punch at his friend. Sirius ducks and laughs, and somehow, I've become a witness to a small scuffle, as the two guys shove each other playfully. I clear my throat slightly and tap my foot lightly. They break apart still laughing, and my eyes meet Sirius'. I'm snagged on their cool grey depths, and I smile back in spite of myself. Their laughter is infectious, and I feel my bad mood evaporating at once.

"I'm here," I explain, "because my parents wanted me to get a 'proper education'" I sketch quotation marks in the air and open my first case. No time like the present to start unpacking. "I think they were just worried I was going to end up like my friend Suzy." I slam the case again when I catch sight of my daisy print panties folded neatly on top of my clothes. My cousin and Sirius might be likeable enough, but I wasn't willing to show them my underwear. "She wanted to be an actress, so she dropped out and went to a muggle stage school in Hollywood. Last I heard, she had no money left and had to go live with her parents in Santa Barbara." The next case I open is filled with shirts and jeans, and I unpack them neatly with one sweep of my wand, and into the closet with another. The good thing about having control freak parents is that you learn all your basic household spells as soon as you're old enough to buy your own wand. I stow the empty case away under the bed and collapse onto it.

"So you're an actress?" James asks, flopping down into a window seat. His head collides with the low ceiling and Sirius sniggers. I shrug, and lay back on my pillows.

"Kinda. I grew up in Hollywood, so I suppose I've been around actor types my whole life. I went to stage school with Suzy and Janet when I was a kid too, but then pretty much all my friends did. We did some plays and stuff, and I made a few commercials. I think I'd really like-" I bite my lip. I don't want to tell them that all I really want to do is sing. I've had enough people tell me it's not a career for a nice little girl. They glance at me curiously, but I keep my mouth shut. I suppose they figured what I was going to say didn't matter, because James raises one shoulder.

"Anyway, what's a commercial?" Sirius asks. I'm surprised to see he has somehow climbed onto my bed without me noticing, and he now has his feet propped up on my footboard, his hands behind his head.

"Like, on television? It's a kind of advertisement for a muggle product." I figure I've been clear enough, because they nod in unison. I don't bother telling Sirius to move. I decide I don't really care anyway. Instead, I kick off my sneakers and examine the maroon polish on my toes. It's chipped already. "I got sick of it after a while though. It wasn't like proper acting, with a character and costumes and stuff. It was boring as hell."

Sirius laughs, a velvety chuckle that makes me shiver. "You sound so jaded. You make James and I seem like we have the most boring lives ever." I dare myself to meet his gaze, and suddenly find he's too close. I can smell him, something warm and musky and masculine. I sit up quickly and hug my knees.

"Boring? Padfoot, you insult me." James feigns hurt, and Sirius laughs.

"Padfoot?" I look from James to Sirius curiously. "Is that like a nickname?"James nods and yawns languidly.

"Yeah, he's Padfoot, and I'm Prongs." I don't bother telling them those are the weirdest nicknames I've ever heard, because it probably won't be the first time they've heard it. Instead, I just smirk a little and nod. "So, did mum give you the tour?" James asks, pushing me gently into the hallway before I have a chance to answer. Sirius follows; I know that without turning around. I can feel his gaze burning into my back.


	2. Chapter 2

**I can't seem to write properly right at the moment, I'm feeling all weird. If this sounds a bit jaggedy and mixed up, it's because I am. I wanted to get this to you guys ASAP though so…**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own what I'm writing about. Except Jay.**

**PS: 28 views, only 4 reviews? COME ON PEOPLE, GET IT TOGETHER3**

That summer passes in a haze of grey weather, thick socks and trying not to stare too much at Sirius' butt. Seriously. The guy wears his jeans so perfectly fitted, it's maddening. I bump into him outside my room one day, fresh from the shower. His hair is damp, falling across his stormy eyes. And he's forgotten to put on a shirt. Perfect. It's not a bad start to such an unreasonably early morning though, and I let myself check him out, just quickly... Just this once. I'd never make a move on him, my aunt practically thinks of him as a son. It would almost be incest.

"Morning," I sing as I skin past him on my way to the bathroom. He raises an arm - a _perfectly toned arm _- in greeting, and goes to his room. Presumably to put on some more clothes. He might make the bathroom extraordinarily messy, but living opposite Sirius definitely has its perks. I shake my head quickly to clear my naughty thoughts and jump into the shower, turning the water on full power. We're meant to be going down to London today, to get some stuff for school. I figure they probably have some wizarding mall, like back in LA. Aware of the time, I wash quickly and I'm showered in a record time of 7 minutes.

When I get back to my room, there's warm golden sunlight streaming through the windows, and for once the grass on the lawn doesn't have that wet sparkle to it. In fact, when I push open the window to breathe in the first real summer I've seen since arriving, the sky is an achingly cloudless blue and the air feels warm. In celebration, I pull on some jean shorts and a purple lace shirt. I'm barely dressed when Sirius ambles in, hands in his pockets. I scowl.

"I was changing. You should really learn to knock."

"Just wanted to know if you were coming down anytime soon," he shrugs. "We're leaving in 10 minutes, and you aren't even ready."

"Am too!" I put my tongue out at childishly at him and turn to the small mirror on the end table by my bed. I ring my eyes with smudgy brown pencil and dry my hair with a wave of my wand. "See?" I push past him out into the corridor and head for the stairs. "Are you coming?"

Less than half an hour later, I'm squashed between James and Sirius in the middle of a bustling wizarding street. It's not even 9 am yet, but shopkeepers and market sellers are already setting up. There are even a couple of kids on muggle rollerblades, weaving in and out of the early morning shoppers. I keep craning my head, trying to take everything in. We have wizarding malls in LA, and they sell all kinds of weird stuff, but I've never seen anything like this. Everything seems to have been squeezed wherever there was space for it, and shop fronts compete with each other for the most attention grabbing display. Everything is colorful and alive and buzzing.

"What did you call this place again?" I ask, stepping to one side to let a group of brightly dressed women pass.

"Diagon Alley," James replies, steering me around a bunch of kids dressed in muggle attire. "It's probably about the only place in London where you can get pretty much everything you need in one place."

"Clothes? I say hopefully. So far, I haven't seen a single store selling anything that could be considered remotely fashionable. James laughs, and raises his eyebrows at Sirius, who smirks back. "What? So I like to look nice, is that a crime?" Sirius pats my head sympathetically.

"No, little Jay. But we have a uniform at Hogwarts. You wont be wearing your own clothes all that much you know." I pout. Uniform? I haven't had to wear one once in my entire life. Even when I worked as a barista for about a month last summer, we could pretty much wear whatever we liked.

"Speaking of uniforms," James says, pulling out the list Aunt Amber gave him that morning. "You need to go buy one." I sigh. I figure uniforms probably aren't a negotiable element of attending an English boarding school, even if you are a witch.

"Fine. Which way?" I fold my arms over my chest. It's already gotten pretty hot, and I'm distracted by a large ice-cream parlor a few stores away. Sirius, who is evidently paying much more attention to pedestrian traffic, grabs my hand and pulls me aside to prevent me getting hit by a girl on a bike. He's not quick enough though, and next thing I know, I'm sprawled in the road. I sit up, a little dazed. It's just typical that on my very first day out in public, I manage to make a total idiot of myself. At least nothing hurts though. I shake each limb carefully, testing for injuries. Apart from my hip which is throbbing uncomfortable where it made contact with the floor, I feel fine.

"Oh my gosh!" The girl with the bike comes running over and kneels beside me, flaming hair tumbling over her green eyes. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you, are you OK?" She seems genuinely sorry, and I try for a smile. She might have just winded me with the front wheel or her bike but I don't think it was intentional.

"I'm fine."

"I am sorry," She smiles sheepishly, clearly embarrassed. I was in such a hurry to meet someone…" She trails off, squinting up. "Potter." Her tone isn't cool, but it's not exactly friendly either. I twist my neck to see James standing over us. He looks a little shocked, nervously mussing up his hair at the back. Sirius is standing a little way off. He looks faintly amused. I try to catch his eye but he's watching the red-head and his best friend intently.

"Lily Evans," James suddenly regains his cool, his normal swagger returning. "Need a hand?" The last part is directed at me, and I take his the hand he's offered. The girl, apparently Lily, straightens up. There are faint grey marks on the knees of her white jeans. There's a funny kind of tension between the two of them. I focus on the marks. They seem to have forgotten about me anyway. Unexpectedly, James wraps an arm around me and pulls me to his side. "Is there any particular reason you tried to kill my friend?" He asks. I don't miss the look Lily shoots me, not quite jealous but not quite friendly either. I don't want to be used in whatever game my cousin's playing here, and I shake him off irritably.

"Cousin," I correct hastily. "I'm his cousin, from California."

"Oh," her face softens, and she smiles genuinely. "I'm Lily Evans, I got to school with Po- James." She stumbles a little over his name. _Curiouser and curiouser._ I make a mental note to ask Sirius what the hell has happened between these two.

"Jay," I reply, returning her grin. "I guess I'll see you around school in September. I just moved here. Anyway, I have stuff to do, so I'll just…" I take a few steps in Sirius' direction. "I guess I'll see you two later?" I don't give them a chance to answer, and instead I grab Sirius' arm and pull him in a random direction until we're swallowed up by the crowds. The last place in the world I want to be is stuck in an awkward conversation with two people who may or may not have the worst relationship history ever. I figure it's best to let them work whatever it is that's making them bug out on their own. I tug Sirius down an narrow alleyway and out of the throng of shoppers, leaning against the wall.

"What was that?" I ask leaning back against the rough stone wall. "I've never seen James like that." I push some hair out of my face and crane my head up at Sirius. I'm not exactly the tallest person in the world, and he easily clears six feet.

"That's because," Sirius grins crookedly, leaning against the opposite wall. "He doesn't fancy you." I blink. I should hope not, we are related after all.

"So… he likes Lily then." I conclude. It's not really a question, but he gives me an answer anyway.

"Since forever. Only problem is, she hates him. Or used to anyway, he's grown up a lot lately." I raise both my eyebrows. James, grown up? I haven't known him all that long, but from what I have seen, he and Sirius can't really be considered the most mature teenagers on the planet. Sirius smirks at me, he seems to know what I'm thinking. I bite my lip.

"Actually, I wouldn't say he hates him, not now." I say carefully. Sirius looks at me a little too closely for comfort, and I shift awkwardly. "At least, it didn't seem like she did, back there." I gesture vaguely with one hand. He looks a little confused, eyebrows furrowed. Somehow, that looks good on him. "Anyway…" I cough. I don't want to get mixed up in my cousin's relationship issues before I even start school, so I hastily change the subject. "I um, need to buy a uniform?"

"Yeah," Sirius stretched languidly. "I'll take you to Malkins'."

Sirius and I have the shopping done in no time. James still has the list from my Aunt, but Sirius has his own and I really only need a few extra things. Like the uniform. Urgh. It's folded and wrapped, lying neatly at my feet. I wonder what kind of institution forces teenagers to dress in such ugly clothes for such a large part of their lives.

"Miss me?" James slides into the seat beside me, ruffling his hair unconsciously. I shrug, picking the nuts of the top of my ice cream. I hate nuts.

"Not really." He sticks his tongue out at me, stealing a pecan from my dessert. "Hey!" He just grins and takes another.

"What?" He asks when he sees me glaring. "You aren't eating them." At that moment, Sirius returns with two large chocolate ice creams in tall glasses. He slides one across to James and sticks his own spoon into the other. No nuts. I'm jealous. The sun has gotten stiflingly hot, and we're sitting outside the ice cream place, Fortescue's, I saw earlier. My ice cream has melted, spilling over the sides of the glass. I push it away after a few bites, suddenly tired. The smell of it has brought a fresh wave of homesickness. I wonder idly what my friends are doing now. Sleeping, probably. I can never quite wrap my head around time differences, I always get mixed up.

"So, you were gone a while," Sirius breaks the silence, resting his large combat boot on the table. My ice cream wobbles alarmingly. "What did you and Evans get up to?" He winks suggestively and makes a fairly obscene gesture.

"You are so gross," I mutter. My good mood has evaporated, and I'm easily annoyed. I stir the remaining slush of my ice cream into liquid, making 'soup' the way I used to as a kid. To my surprise, James shoots him a genuinely irritated look, and he shuts up pretty fast. I guess Lily Evans is a touchy subject for him. _He must really like her_, I muse, chewing on the end of a plastic straw. The tension between James and Sirius dissipates pretty fast, and I'm left listening to them babble on about Quidditch and next years house teams and other boyish things that I eventually tune out. I'm dragged back into the conversation however, when I catch both boys staring at me intently. They seem to be expecting some kind of answer from me.

"Uh, what?" I ask, swinging my feet idly under the table.

"I asked," Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes at me "if you knew how they were going to sort you." I must have looked baffled, because James pats my hand reassuringly.

"You know about the Hogwarts Houses at least?" He asks.

"Uh-huh. I guess I just didn't think about it. Maybe I just get to pick one?" I say hopefully. Since I don't know anyone else, it would be nice to be able to hang out with James and Sirius in my spare time.

"Maybe," Sirius agrees, combing his hair back from his face. His eyes are boring into mine, and I swallow. I'm really not looking for a relationship, I'll be back in LA within a year, but this boy is hot. I force myself to meet his gaze and flick my hair back from my face, smiling softly up at him. He blinks, a little stunned. This is after all, the first time I've allowed myself to show any interest in him. I'll admit, I enjoy his reaction a little too much. This could be fun. I might even get through the school year, uniform and all, if I have Sirius around.

**Right, sorry, this is a pretty short chapter. Mostly a filler really, which I hate writing.**

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	3. Chapter 3

**I am one of the worst people. I know, it's been literally weeks since I updated this story, but I have my excuses, PROMISE! There was exams, and Christmas, then revision for more exams, and then actual A Level exams. I let things get on top of me for a while and I just didn't update this. Anyway, here you go. I feel you guys deserve some effort from me for being such amazing readers.**

**Also, can I please, please get some more reviews?! It makes me so happy and it really only takes a second of your time. Also, if anyone has an idea/suggestion/criticism that they want to share, LET ME KNOW! I love getting any kind of reviews, even ones that tell me I suck. Ok, that's a lie, but still. REVIEWWWWWWWW.**

**I am working on chapter four as I write this, and there is alcohol/minor angst/kissing/James and Lily action involved. So get reviewing, or I won't post. HAHAHAH I am evil.**

"How quaint, a steam engine," I smirk, peering up at the scarlet train, which is already billowing smoke from its funnel. It _is_ quite cute, in an old-timey sort of way. I guess a regular would be a pretty redundant idea though, since it wouldn't work around so much magic. The platform is crowded with both parents and students. Everyone wants that last hug, last goodbye. They'll most likely see each other again at Christmas, but this seems to be a small consolation to the tiny boy sniveling on the platform. He's already dressed in his school robes and clinging tightly to his mother's hand. I wonder at this. Back when I was 11, my parents never seemed to have the time for me. It wasn't that they didn't want me, or couldn't be bothered to take care of me, but they were busy. They had full time jobs, so I just sort of got on with stuff on my own. I've turned out OK so far.

Struggling against the tide of people, James, Sirius and I elbow our way over to the train. We seem to command a sort of respect from the younger kids. I figure that's probably more to do with James and Sirius' reputations than my own. I know all about the Marauders by now, I've heard countless tales about their antics over the summer. I'll admit, I'm a little curious to meet the boys my cousin holds in such high esteem. I'm expecting demi-gods at the very least. We've stowed our luggage, and we said goodbye to my aunt and uncle this morning, so we board the train fairly quickly. James insisted it wasn't a big deal for them to come, and my uncle had to work today anyway. I have a suspicion that James didn't want to lose his reputation by revealing to everyone that he is, at heart, a mommy's boy. There was a lot of hugging back at the house, and a few tears from Aunt Amber. I've never been a part of such an emotional farewell before, and I felt slightly uncomfortable. It was nice though, to be considered a part of the family.

We take a compartment near the front of the train. There are a few boys in there, who look to be about 15, but Sirius barks something about Head Boy privileges and they leave grudgingly. I flop down by the window, resting my feet on the seat opposite.

"Remind me," Sirius drawls lazily, pushing my feet aside and sitting down. "How the hell you got to be Head Boy?" I laugh. James is a nice enough guy and all, but even I've noticed he isn't exactly the responsible type. I've lost count of the number of everyday household items he and Sirius have broken since I arrived. James smirks and shrugs.

"I suppose it's just my natural charm and willing personality that got me the job." He takes the spot beside me and throws his arms behind his head arrogantly. He got his Head Boy letter and badge in the post a couple of days ago, and by the look on his face when he opened it, he was as shocked as the rest of us.

"Took them a while to decide though, didn't it? Maybe Dumbledore had some second thoughts about you," Sirius jokes. James aims a mock kick at him and misses, though not by much. "Seriously though mate, congratulations. It'll be nice to have someone on our side for a change." They're still tossing banter back and forth a few minutes later, when the door slides open. A tall, sandy haired boy who looks like he hasn't slept in about a month steps into our compartment, amid shouts of joy from the others. He has silvery scars on his face and dark shadows etched over his eyes, although he's also kind of beautiful, in a haunted way. Sirius jumps up and throws his arms around him, clapping him hard on the back. They wrestle for a moment, before James butts in.

I'm quiet while all this takes place. I feel slightly awkward here, hunched up in my corner. They boys eventually break apart, and the new comer glances curiously in my direction. I figure that's my queue to say something, so I smile.

"I'm Jay, James' cousin," I say, shaking his hand. "I moved from California at the beginning of the summer." His hand is just as scarred as his face, and pale. He looks ill, but his face breaks into a warm smile.

"James has mentioned you a couple of times," he says, sitting beside Sirius who has resumed his previous position. I feel a shift in the upholstery as James settles down, resting an arm along the back of the seat. "How do you like England?" I can't help it, I make a face.

"You guys have rubbish weather."

"I agree. This has got to have been the worst summer ever," Sirius sighs. "D'you remember last summer it got so hot, we just stripped off and jumped into the lake instead of going to Transfiguration?"

"Ha," James snorts. "McGonagall was so pissed." I'm still wrapped up in the image of Sirius Black with his clothes off, so I barely notice when we're joined by a fourth boy. He sidles into the compartment, mousy hair sticking to his forehead. He's slightly pink, and has a distinctly rodent-like appearance. The other three Marauders are tall and muscled, he's around my height and fairly chubby, his blue shirt pulled taut - and not in a good, Sirius-type way - across his chest and stomach. His watery eyes flit between his friends and me, and he twists his hands anxiously.

"Wormy!" Sirius leaps up again and punches the boy playfully on the shoulder. He smiles, wincing a little when Sirius' fist makes contact with his fleshy upper arm. Personally, I find his nickname insulting, but he seems pleased to be included, punching Sirius back feebly. He sidesteps him easily, laughing carelessly. His dark hair falls across his eyes as he flops back down. Wormy's expression is comic, somewhere between awe and anxiety. He clearly idolizes Sirius. I don't really blame him, every time he catches my eye and I have to fight to keep myself from melting. There's something so hard, so powerful in his gaze that I shiver. I'm trying hard not to fall for this boy, but it's not so easy.

"Wormtail, Jay. Jay, Wormtail," James makes introductions lazily, with a sweep of his hand. Wormtail mumbles a greeting, shyly ducking his head. I wonder why the other three befriended him - maybe pity? I feel bad for thinking it, but there's no denying that he doesn't really belong, this chubby boy amongst his graceful friends.

"Nice to meet you," I say brightly, flashing him a smile. "James and Sirius have told me a lot about you." This is not strictly true, but he meets my eyes properly for the first time, and a grin spreads across his face. I figure he probably lives off compliments from his friends.

"Good things?"

Wormtail's question is almost a plea, and I'm suddenly disgusted by him. I know it's cruel, but I can't stand people like him, people who creep up to those who they think are better than they are. I nod, and his face lights up instantly. Here's a boy who is easy to please. I turn and stare at the scenery flashing past the window. It's started raining again, a depressing drizzle that mists the landscape and makes me shiver. I catch Sirius watching me, and he laughs when he sees my face.

"Don't make that face, it's not pretty," he teases. I stick my tongue out at him childishly, and kick him lightly in the shins.

"Neither are you," I retort, folding my arms across my chest. Sirius leans forward a little, holding me there with his gaze.

"Now, I think we both know that's a lie," he drawls, his slate colored eyes boring into mine. James clears his throat and breaks the spell. I jump and study the toe of my right sneaker instead, my cheeks flaming.

"When you two are finished flirting," my cousin sighs, "I think we should plan how we're going to celebrate being back at school." This starts a heated discussion about parties and various other celebrations and I'm glad of the diversion. I lean against the glass of the window, grateful for the cooling effect it has on my burning cheeks. I'm surprised that I fell for Sirius' charm so easily. After all, I know what he's like and that didn't stop me wanting to lean forward and kiss him. Irritated, I shove those thoughts to the back of my mind and close my eyes. Maybe I can get a few hours sleep before we get to Hogwarts.

I'm dressed in the awful new uniform by the time the train pulls into a tiny station. It looks like something out of an old British war film, all wood and hand painted signs. Everything is tiny too. Everything, save for the hulking man a few hundred yards down the platform. I'm still in awe of this mans size when Sirius steers me past him to a dozen or so horseless carriages. I can feel the misty rain against my skin, and I'm shivering by the time we reach them.

Wormtail jumps in first, closely followed by Remus. Sirius however, makes a gallant bow and offers me his hand. I hesitate before I take it. His palm is rough and warm, and covers my own almost completely.

"Who said," he smirks as he helps me up, "chivalry is dead?" I roll my eyes and laugh as he jumps in behind me easily.

"Hey, wait for me!" James rushes up to the carriage, swinging himself up into a seat. He left us around halfway through the journey to do some Head-Boy stuff, and judging from the grin threatening to split his head in two, it went pretty well. He's barely seated when the carriage jerks into motion, rocking down the uneven dirt road. I catch glimpses of the castle through the trees, turrets aglow with the light that spills from the windows. The sky is over cast, and thin tendrils of mist curl around the uppermost rooftops, blurring the lines of architecture. The carriage creaks and shudders as we move along, threatening to stick in the deep mud every second. I'm distantly aware that the guys have started the discussion they had on the train again, tossing ideas for celebrations back and forth. Someone suggests a prank, which is instantly ruled out by Sirius. Apparently, pranking is so sixth-year.

After what seems like forever in the freezing rain, we draw up to some impressive gates, which stand open in anticipation of the carriages. A grizzled old man stands by, shuffling around piles of trunks and prodding at anything he finds suspicious.

"That's Filch, the caretaker" Sirius mutters into my ear. "He's had a grudge against us Marauders since forever." I'm not surprised. From what I've heard, the boys love to play practical jokes, or smuggle in contraband items to sell on for profit (that last one's mostly just Sirius). I roll my eyes and to pretend I don't enjoy his proximity. I'm glad it's already dark, because I'm certain my cheeks are about the same color as the Hogwarts Express.

There's no time to feel nervous or shy, even amongst the crowds of student who carry us like a wave into the entrance hall. Before I can follow the guys into the Great Hall, I'm drawn aside by a stern faced woman in long sweeping robes of emerald green. Her graying hair is pulled into a severe bun, and her silver-framed glasses sit low on her nose. Despite her severity, there's something in her face that makes me instantly warm to her, and I grin. No harm in being friendly after all. She doesn't really smile, but her face softens very slightly.

"Miss Rivers." It isn't a question; she already knows who I am. "Follow me please." Before I can yell after my cousin and his friends, I'm led through a small antechamber into a wood paneled room, with a small fire flickering at the grate. Other than a small armchair, the room is entirely empty. Heavy velvet curtains hand around a small leaded window on the far wall, and across from it there is another door, blending in almost perfectly with the paneling. I turn to the stern faced woman, slightly confused. I'm pretty hungry, and my cousin had led me to believe that there was a feast tonight.

"Erm, sorry Miss..?" I falter. Addressing this woman as "miss" just seems wrong somehow.

"Professor McGonagall," she corrects, smoothing the front of her robes and adjusting the large silver pin underneath her chin. "Wait here please Miss Rivers." Without another word, she sweeps out of the room leaving me entirely on my own. I should have guessed who she was really, James and Sirius have mentioned her name a couple of times over the summer. The room is eerily silent, save for the crackling of the fire, so I hum under my breath and wander over to the window. The sky is completely black by this time, heavy and overcast so not even a glimmer of starlight can be seen. I look down instead, but the sloping lawn is quickly swallowed by the gloom, lighted only by the little glow that comes from the castle windows.

I'm suddenly uneasy and pull away from the glass, letting the heavy curtain fall across the window. There's something about the press of the darkness that makes me shudder, so I cross back to the fireplace and sink into the armchair, drawing my knees up to my chest. Professor McGonagall is gone for a long time, and I my eyes prick and itch. I stifle a yawn and wonder what time it is. Surely, the feast is finished by now, so why am I still here? I wait another few minutes, ears straining for the sound of her footsteps. Nothing.

Sighing, I jump out of the chair. My stomach growls angrily in the silence, and I giggle, my laughter alien in the quiet room. Deciding I have had enough of this torture, I walk across to the far door - the one we didn't come in through - and turn the handle. It's locked, but it doesn't respond to my spell, and I frown in irritation. What could be so important that it has to be locked away so carefully? I rattle the handle once more for good measure, then give up and flop back into the chair. I can't remember a time when I was this hungry, and I'm irritated by McGonagall and her lateness. Eventually, she sweeps back in through the door, without an apology and clutching the oldest looking hat I've ever seen.

"Sorting," she begins, "Normally takes place in the Great Hall in front of the other students. I thought in your case, you might want to do it privately. I imagine being sorted amongst eleven year-olds would be just a little bit uncomfortable." I shrug grumpily, and swing my feet, studying a scuff mark on the toe of my sneakers. McGonagall frowns at my footwear choice but doesn't say anything. Instead, she strides over to me, holding the hat aloft. "The Sorting Hat," she says by way of explanation. She also runs through some story about the founders of the school, and the ways in which students are housed, but I've heard bits and pieces from James all summer so I'm not too focused. McGonagall places the hat on my head, almost with reverence, and I struggle not to laugh. The whole charade seems so silly, but that might just be because I am lightheaded with hunger.

"Hmmmm," the hat whispers into my ear. I've grown up with magic, but the voice still makes me jump in surprise. "Interesting, so much older than what I'm used to,"

"Thanks," I snort. "You know how to impress a girl," McGonagall looks haughtily irritated, but the hat chuckles softly.

"Witty girl, Slytherin would gain a great asset in you, undoubtedly." I'm a little alarmed, James and Sirius haven't exactly made their hatred of Slytherin a secret over the last few weeks. _Please, no._ I will the hat to change its mind, to put me with them. I know James, accepting as he is, would eventually get over the shock of having a Slytherin in the family but Sirius… I can see his reaction as clearly as if he were standing in front of me. I clench my hands into fists, chewing the inside of my cheek. The hat sighs, then, barely audibly, laughs. Like it knows something I don't.

"Please," I breathe aloud, allowing my eyes to flutter shut. My heart is hammering now, I'm sure McGonagall can hear it.

"Very well," the hat's made its decision. There's a note of finality to its voice, and dread pools in my stomach. _It can't be Slytherin. _"It seems, Miss Rivers, that you're a little at war with your feelings." I breathe shallowly, trying not to let my fear show in my face. There's a lump in my throat, because now that if the next word out of the hat's mouth is Slytherin, I'll have no chance. Again, I see Sirius' pained expression, the disappointment in his eyes as I tell him…

"Gryffindor!" The hat has spoken aloud, and I find myself close to tears with relief. "Just remember Miss Rivers, why you made this choice." I rip the hat off my head and leap to my feet, my hands shaking with adrenaline. Everything feels a little surreal, and I move in a dreamlike state towards the door. I forget McGonagall, I forget I don't have a clue where I'm supposed to be going. I feel light as air, my sneakers barely touching the floor as I drift through the doorway into the high ceilinged ante-chamber. I want to laugh, or maybe cry. I know I'm maybe overreacting, just a little. It is, after all, only a school house. But the image of Sirius' face, breaking into one of his crooked smiles, has me bubbling over.

"Miss Rivers!" I jump, brought down from my adrenaline high by McGonagall's voice behind me. Because that's all it is, an adrenaline rush. My euphoria has nothing whatsoever to do with Sirius Black, or his great ass. I take a breath and turn around, a polite smile on my face. "I'll show you to the common room now." She looks irritated, but there's a glimmer of something else in her eyes, laughter maybe?

I step through the portrait hole into a cozy room, filled with squashy armchairs and hung with tapestries. I have no time to take anything in though, because the next second I'm hit hard on the shoulder by my cousin.

"Knew you wouldn't let the family down," James grins, throwing an arm around my shoulders. I roll my eyes. God knows where all this pride in their houses comes from. I'm just a newbie though, so what do I know?

"Proud?" I ask him, teasingly ruffling his hair. He scowls and pulls away, combing it down before messing it up again. I laugh push him. "It looks a mess anyway." James sticks his tongue out at me childishly.

"He likes it messy." It's Sirius. He descends from the staircase on the left, changed out of his school uniform already. His black shirt is pulled tightly across his muscular chest, and dark jeans ride low on his hipbones. "Thinks it will impress-" James shoots him a look and Sirius shuts up.

"You surprised to see me here Black?" I'm surprised at how calm my voice sounds, considering how just looking at him makes me want to die. Or blush. And something I definitely hate doing is blushing.

"Never doubted you for a second," he drawls, closing the distance between us and drawing me into a hug. I catch my breath and pull away a little to look up at him. His eyes bore into mine, slate grey and gorgeous. We're inches apart, if I were to take a tiny step forward…

"When you're done," James sighs from the couch. "I'm sure Jay would like to meet her new room-mates." Of course, the moment had to end. I just wish it could have gone on a little longer. "Staircase on the right," my cousin grunts. "The noisiest room is the one you're looking for." When I reach the foot of the stairs, I hear Sirius call my name. I turn, brushing a few strands of hair from my eyes. I don't know how he managed to get so close without me noticing, but our chests are practically touching.

"I forgot, there's something I meant to give you a second ago." His words are laden with meaning, and I tilt my head back in anticipation.

"What is it?" I breathe, shivering at his proximity. He steps back suddenly, reaching into the pocket of those jeans that fit him oh-so-well.

"Letter, from your parents." He hands me the crumpled envelope. "It arrived this morning and I completely forgot about it once we got on the train."

"Thanks." I mutter. I don't want to be another one of Sirius' girls - from what I gather, he's had his fair share - but it's so hard to resist him when he's standing so close. I sigh and head upstairs, more than a little disappointed.

"Oh, and Jay?" Sirius wraps his fingers around my wrist, and before I know what's happening, he pulls me against him. His muscular chest feels reassuringly solid, and I can hear the thump of his heart under his shirt. I shudder again, as he brushes a thumb across my lips. Then he kisses me, so lightly it feels more like a breath of air than actual contact. For a second, the whole world dissolves into nothing, and it feels like there's nobody else alive but the two of us. Everything's a dizzy rush, and I can feel my blood pounding in my head. I step back, eyes wide. He follows me with his gaze, gauging my reaction perhaps, or planning his next move. If I was wittier, bolder, I'd have said something, maybe even kissed his again, deeper this time. Instead, I take a deep breath, meet his stormy gaze and flee upstairs, where I hope he wont follow.

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